


in the dark; you'll find a star

by orphan_account



Series: wonders of nature [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Kinda, Mentions of Death, OOC?, cw grief, haha Im not v good at proof reading, set during OotP, sorry for typos, um lmao the plot is really weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7897300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>un coup de foudre; french idiom, literally a strike of lightning.<br/>meaning: love at first sight.</p><p>Pansy doesn't believe in love. Well, not like that. She's sceptical, and perhaps she has a right to be. Her family is built on distrust and malice. She <i>definitely</i> doesn't believe in true love, but something's about to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> quick warning; this fic will probably contain all the non-canon ships i'm bitter about being non-canon, so the relationships will probably build up later on.

Overall, Pansy did not hate this class so much as she should have, perhaps. Stars have always mesmerised her, because there was something so ethereal about them that made a warm feeling pool in her stomach. It was the only class that Pansy showed any aptitude for- she might have for a few more, but, honestly, she didn’t care enough to try. Stars were so far away from the mundane existence that she was stuck in, a groove, Blaise had called it, when she’d complained, you just need to take a jump out. Pansy had scoffed at the time, but now, staring at Ursa Minor from the stone castle that had been a sort of prison, but was now far more a home, she thought a bit more carefully. Blaise was the sort of person who knew, as much as Pansy was loathe to admit it. He knew who had been up to late last night cramming, or who thought herbology was a waste of time.   
“Are you psychic?” people would ask.  
“Oh, no,” Blaise always said. “Just intuitive.”  
Besides Pansy, Theo shifted his telescope to carefully study something else. He grunted as the telescope gave a squeak of protest, before groaning as it was twisted into place.  
“Look, Draco,” he said, gesturing softly. “That’s you.”   
Pansy followed Theo’s fingers to a line of stars resting among the rest, which seemed to be shining slightly brighter. Draco, the dragon.  
Draco’s hum was quiet, like he was slightly distracted. “Original,” he remarked, and Theo made a noise in the back of his throat, like he was halfway offended, but couldn’t be bothered to go all the way. Pansy punched his arm, lightly, and he huffed.  
“I thought fifth year was supposed to be fun. But it’s just been OWLs this and NEWTs that and I don’t give a shit.”  
“Honestly,” Millicent said, from where she was perched next to Pansy. “Language, fucker.”  
Pansy snorted. Theo muttered a bit, and Blaise tittered, so Draco threw his arm around them. “Guys, it’s the first week back,” he reproached, but he was smiling. So was Blaise, but Theo remained resolute in his sulk, so Pansy poked him, gently, again, and then, receiving no reaction, not so much. He yelped, and she smirked in triumph.   
“Fuck you,” he said, and then looked to Millicent. “What do you think of that Umbridge character?”  
Millicent frowned, because she was a good judge of character. “She- she- I don’t like her much.”  
“I didn’t like that Skeeter woman much either.”  
“But-” Draco interrupted. “that was a very effective way to piss off Potter.”  
“True,” Theo acknowledged, and they bumped fists. Professor Sinistra began lecturing about the use of stars in divination, or something, and Pansy tuned her out because she really couldn’t care less about Divination; Professor Trelawney was a fraud, and she felt like the whole subject was too, probably. Weasley glowered at the group from the other side of the professor, and Pansy scowled as he turned to Granger and said something. Her brown curls bobbed up and down as she argued with him, and he grumbled a bit before turning back to Potter, who appeared to be doodling in his textbook. It looked new, but Pansy had pinched his old one and found a not very pleasant picture of Gregory on the inside cover. Naturally, Pansy had crossed out the word ‘Goyle’ and written ‘Potter’ in block capitals, then pulled all the pages out and burned them before sending it back, gift wrapped in fluorescent yellow paper. Perhaps he was drawing a companion piece of Vincent? Pansy wouldn’t be surprised. Whatever it was, it seemed to be entertaining the Weasel, so threw them a contemptful look and struck up a conversation with Millicent about the Arithmancy essay.  
“-Partners,” came Professor Sinistra soft voice, floating over the hushed conversation. Pansy immediately reached for Millicent, but was cut off. “ _I_ will be picking the partners.”  
Pansy banged her head against her telescope. Whenever they did assigned partners, she always ended up with someone awful, like Longbottom, or “-Granger.”   
Pansy started as Millicent jostled her. “You’re with Granger,” she muttered. “Don’t get too pissy.”  
Already too pissy, Pansy collected her things and crossed to the Gryffindor half of the classroom. Granger wouldn’t move- even if she wanted to, Weasel would have pulled her back down. Protective friends were a nuisance like that. Especially the kind of protective friend that had a blatant crush on you. She slumped down as far away from Granger she could get whilst still having access to the telescope, and made a face at Theo, who was gloating. Weasley left to sit with Finnegan, and Potter hurried over to Patil to tie his shoelace.  
Granger eyed her warily and then said, “You alright?”  
“No.”  
“Why?”  
“Nott,” Pansy said, distastefully, “Is a fucking dick.”  
Granger shrugged like that was an acceptable answer. Perhaps it was. “Ron’s always a dick. I think it’s a fifteen year old boy thing.”  
Pansy pursed her lips as she nodded, and then said, “What are we s’posed to be doing then, anyway?”  
‘It’s a term long thing. Project on a planet of our choice. Essay, how it affects magic, that sort of thing.”  
“Right.” There was silence, besides Granger awkwardly tapping a pen. “Shall we do Venus?”  
Granger said; “Why not?”  
Maybe this wouldn't be quite so terrible after all.

The next morning, Pansy sat with the Slytherins, picking at her food.  
“My uterus,” she declared, “is dying.”  
Theo balked, and Millicent turned from her conversation with Daphne Greengrass to smirk at her. Pansy rolled her eyes. “Imagine the Crucio curse. Then times it by one hundred.”  
“One hundred?” Theo asked, appalled.  
“One hundred,” she announced. “It’s awful.”  
Hestia Carrow rolled her eyes, somewhere down the table. “She’s exaggerating.”  
“I’m not. Did you know-” she was interrupted by the arrival of Draco, who planted himself down, and then looked around at his companions’ faces.   
“What’d I miss?” he asked, shoveling a pile of strawberries onto his plate.   
Theo said, “My worst nightmare.”   
Pansy inclined her head. “Americans call full stops ‘periods’. Imagine!”  
“Why are we having this conversation?” Theo asked, like he wanted desperately to end it.   
“Well,” Pansy grinned, “I felt like making you uncomfortable. Also- oh, look, there’s Potter and co. How exciting.”  
“One of these days,” Blaise said, picking at his nails, “I am going to ask for his autograph.”  
Draco burst out laughing, and even Theo managed a small laugh. Blaise smiled.  
“Oh! Pansy, I’ll bet you ten galleons,” Theo began, and Pansy promptly said, “No.”  
“C’mon! Ten galleons- _and_ a butterbeer, if you go and ask Potter for his autograph.”  
Pansy thought about it for a split second. “Make it twenty, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”  
“Sure. Draco’ll chip in, won’t you? I can’t spend any money, I’m saving up for something,” Blaise said, answering for Theo.  
“Blaise, your mum is loaded.”  
“But I’m not.”  
“Fair point.”  
“Shut it, you lot,” Pansy said, and gestured for Gregory to follow her. “In case he thinks I have ulterior motives,” she explained, grinning. “I’m not in the mood for a fight.”  
“I think he has a sense of humour somewhere in there,” Theo said.  
“I told you to shut it,” Pansy said, not unpleasantly. “Right. I’m off.”  
“Have fun on your travels.”  
“I shall.” Pansy marched to the Gryffindor table, Gregory on her heels. The first years noticed her approach and shrank down in their seats, obviously expecting some sort of showdown. Pansy smiled, showing her teeth, and climbed in between Thomas and Brown, who shuffled away faster than she’d ever seen them move. There was a clamour as some third year was pushed off his spot at the end of the bench.  
“Hey, Potty,” she said. Potter nodded stiffly. “Sorry for the unceremonial visit, but Nott over there really wanted an autograph. I think,” here she lowered her voice to the loudest stage whisper she could, “he has a bit of a crush.”  
Potter flushed beet red as he fumbled for a parchment scrap and a quill. Hastily, he scribbled his name- blimey, his handwriting was messy- and Pansy took it and strolled back leisurely, Gregory trailing her like some sort of bodyguard. “You know, Greg,” she said, “we’re friends. We can walk together, if you want.”  
He made a grunting noise, and flashed her a smile. “Thanks.”  
“Not a problem.”  
On the table lay twenty galleons. Pansy pocketed them, before passing Theo the autograph. “You should frame that,” she said. 

Lessons that day were much the same as normal; Defense, Herbology, Double Potions, Lunch, Arithmancy, Double Flying. Defense was with the Umbridge woman, who was a shit teacher, but honestly, Pansy just used those lessons to pretend to read and stew in whatever had got her pissy this week. Umbridge seemed to like her, but she seemed to like anybody who Potter wasn’t entirely fond of, so Pansy wasn’t sure that was a compliment.  
When she arrived in Defense that day though, Pansy discovered that they were to be blessed with the wonders of a Seating Arrangement. It seemed the Toad had paired anyone who might cause “trouble” next to someone she considered a good person. Which probably meant they were the opposite. Pansy had gotten Granger, but Theo seemed to have gotten stuck with Finnegan, who was poking him to investigate his “crush” on Harry, and was therefore throwing her the odd rude gesture, but then Umbridge threatened him with detention, so he decided to abstain from that for a bit.  
“So,” Pansy said. “Here we are again.”  
Granger nodded, and Pansy turned to watch Potter, who was eyeing Theo, bewildered. Theo’s returning gaze could have killed a man, and Potter seemed to get the hint. He turned to his partner and began talking to him, presumably about the book.  
“Hem hem,” Umbridge said. “Get back to the reading, please.”  
Granger’s arm shot into the air forcefully, and Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Um, Professor!”  
“Miss Granger? Have you finished again?” The fake concern in the teacher’s voice made Pansy’s skin crawl.  
“Um, no, professor. I wanted to know-” she paused and looked at Potter carefully- “if we will be doing any practical work this year?”  
Umbridge’s tone was clipped as she said, “No.”  
Pansy lay her forehead against the desk as the Gryffindors exploded into outrage. Honestly, this was the third time this week. Evidently, Umbridge had thought separating them would do the trick; she didn't seem to know the Chosen One and his mindless followers very well. Pansy was smart in her approach, she thought- don't argue back, because it won't change a thing. The brave bastards had other ideas, apparently, and Potter got another round of detention for his “lies.” Pansy knew full well it wasn't a lie, but Fudge was delusional, wrapped up in his power and terrified of losing it. Umbridge was merely his method of attack. The prophet’s brainwashing seemed to be working too; Pansy had noticed Finnegan and Brown been very wary around Potty and the Weasel lately. When the Government declares somebody insane and dangerous, it's hard to dismiss it as falsehood.   
“Don’t you want to do practicals?” Granger hissed at her over the textbook. Pansy rolled her eyes.   
“Of course I do,” she whispered, somewhat condescending. “But detention is not the way to go about getting to do them. It would be better to start a secret society.” The cogs in Granger’s brain seemed to start turning, and Pansy _tsk_ ed.   
“Don't do that. Fudge’ll arrest you.”  
“Hah! He can't arrest minors.”  
“He can arrest anybody of Hogwarts age, actually.”  
Granger was silent. Then she said, “What’d Nott do?”  
Pansy gave her a confused look.  
“Why'd you tell Harry he has a crush on him?”  
“What- oh-” Pansy laughed softly. “He existed.”  
“I don’t understand you,” Granger noted. “Why are you so mean to your friends? Are they even friends?”  
Pansy face must have betrayed her disbelief, because Granger suddenly went pale. “Sorry,” she got out, hurriedly.  
Pansy shrugged. “Have you never played a prank on a friend? Dared them to do something embarrassing?”  
Hermione shook her head, wide-eyed.   
“Your life must be so boring.”  
“Not really. Harry-” Granger trailed off, unsure.  
“If it makes you feel any better, I think Old Voldy is a piece of shit,” Pansy offered, doodling in her notebook.  
“It does,” Granger said. “Thank you.”

Herbology was with the Ravenclaws, and Pansy claimed the seat next to Blaise. Draco was on his other side, their silver trio to Potty’s gold. “Saw you getting chummy with Granger there,” Draco noted, wiggling his eyebrows.  
“Eh.”  
“What’d you say?”  
“Told her Mouldypants is a piece of shit.”  
“Agreed,” Blaise said, flashing a smile at some Ravenclaw, who almost fainted. Pansy scowled.  
“I rather hate it when you do that.”  
“I won't stop.”  
“I know.”  
They were working with Venomous Tentacula, trying to do something involving song and a garden fork, but Pansy was distracted. Granger kept flitting across her mind; soft voices, a mess of curls, ink-stained hands. She barely noticed as a leaf of the plant crept towards her moon-white palm, nor when Blaise sent a quick severing charm its way and there was a sizzle as the venom carved a hole through the work table.   
“The hell, Parkinson?” Draco exclaimed, and Pansy was shocked out of her fantasies.  
“Shit,” she remarked. “I am in deep shit.”  
“Good job, Parkinson!” came Theo’s voice.   
“Shut up, Nott,” she retorted. “Go daydream about Potter.”  
There were several snickers from the Ravenclaws- apparently this morning’s dare had become a school-wide legend- but Draco shut them up with a glare.   
“Oh, lighten up, ferret,” Millicent said, and the room burst into laughter. Draco and Theo both held matching expressions of irritation on their faces, and Pansy leaned over to high five Millicent.

Double Potions meant more quality time with the Gryffindors- Granger kept her distance this time and stayed with the Weasel. Pansy winked at her in passing- _why?_ \- and sat down next to one of the Carrows- Flora, perhaps. She greeted her with a short, “Hey,” and turned back to Granger, who seemed to be trying to comfort Potter as he stabbed a page with his quill. Weasley seemed to be having an irate conversation with Finnegan, involving a lot of angry gestures at Harry, and furtive glances at Snape every now and then. The person in question, however, was not entirely oblivious, and glided over to the motley crew of Gryffindors. A pale hand reached out to swipe the parchment from in front of the Chosen Boy, and dark eyes passed over whatever had been scrawled there in mocking pleasure.  
“Detention, Finnegan, Weasley,” he said, and both said nothing, presumably lacking a death wish. “And, Potter-” Wonder Boy had gone very red, again, and seemed to be trying to slump down in his chair. “I would abstain from writing anymore… _notes_ of this kind in the future.”  
Pansy could’ve sworn Potter’s jaw dropped before he whirled to Granger and got back to whispering at her.   
“Friend,” she said to Flora, “the hell’s up with Potter?”  
Flora cocked her head to the side and said, “Relationship troubles?”  
Pansy opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again. She went back to studying Granger, watching the way she flicked her hands as she tossed porcupine spines into her potion, the way she gestured for Harry to _talk about this later!_ , the way she smiled softly when he grabbed her hand. Pansy huffed and chucked some murtlap essence in the direction of her cauldron, missing and drenching Draco, who sat at the bench next to hers. He spluttered, and for a moment that was the only sound in the room, as all its inhabitants waited for the explosion. The Gryffindors were all tense, anticipating a meltdown. Pansy just grinned. Then, suddenly, she began laughing. It was quiet at first- a little chuckle, nothing more, but then it built up, and soon she was laughing so hard her sides might split. Behind her, Theo was joining in, and Millicent was snorting somewhere to her left.   
“I’m going to get more Murtlap,” she wheezed, and walked off, slowly, because her laughter was causing an inconvenience.   
The supply cupboard was at the back of the room, a rickety of thing covered in what Pansy supposed was mould, but, honestly, here you could never know. She prodded inside, still laughing, for the vial of essence, but her search was not forthcoming. Pansy leaned her head against the wall; still smiling widely. It wasn't until she heard movement behind her that she turned around, only to find herself nose to nose with Hermione Granger.   
“Uh, hi?” Pansy said, voice unnaturally high.   
“Um, hello,” was the response. Granger waved a vial at her. “Ron took two, sorry.”  
“Oh. Um, okay. I’ll just be, uh, going?”  
“Wait-” Granger pressed the vial into Pansy’s hand, and then said, “you're not too bad.”  
Pansy smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i added a new ship tag.  
> yes, that will keep happening.

Until Weasel came over, lunch had been fairly pleasant. Pansy was sitting with Gregory, and their conversation was pretty informal, which, for them, was a surprise. Gregory and Pansy’s friendship was all straight backs and perfect manners; a façade of perfect upbringing and worth. They never talked, really they were just mutual acquaintances.  
Nevertheless, Pansy had been making an effort, and was currently in the middle of telling an in-depth story about how she first met Draco.  
“So then he says ‘Harry Potter’s on the train’ and Draco goes ‘Why didn't you tell me?’ and marches off!”  
Gregory laughed at Pansy’s face, and then stopped, and said, “Pansy, we really need to talk about-” He paused, and Pansy could feel how tense her shoulders were. “Is that Weasley?”  
It was indeed Weasley, marching towards them with his face an interesting shade of puce. He looked furious, and threw himself down on the bench forcefully.  
“Listen, Parkinson,” he said, anger thick in his voice. “I don't know what you've done to ‘Mione, but you sure as hell’ve got to change her back.”  
“What?”  
“You know what I mean.”  
“No, Weasley, I assure you I don't, or else I wouldn't be asking you,” Pansy said.  
“Well, just now, I was talking to her about you, and she said she was sure you were just misunderstood.”  
Pansy’s laugh was perplexed, and Gregory could seemingly tell, because he interrupted.  
“How about,” he said, threateningly, “you keep your nose in your own business?”  
“Oh, Goyle. Didn't know you could speak.”  
“Oh, that’s it!” Pansy exclaimed, tone filled with infuriation. “Perhaps I was just nice to her! Perhaps I just-” she brandished her wand. “Perhaps you're just too biased to see that I’m not an awful person!” Pansy’s voice broke at the end, and she heaves out a sharp breath. “I'm going to class.”  
“Pansy!” Gregory cried. “Wait! We still need to talk about-” he stopped, and Pansy took the opportunity, and surged forward through the throng of students. 

Nothing else of note happened to Pansy until the twenty-second of September. She continued as normal: working (or not), eating, and dodging Goyle every time he tried to talk about _the thing_.  
This particular morning was a misty, grey day; the kind that dawn on you and leave you wondering in the point of getting out of bed. It seemed to be working on the rest of the dorm, and each girl had bundled themselves up under their bright green sheets and refused to move. Albeit, it was five am, but Pansy didn't realise this. In wary silence, she pulled on her robes and crept out of the dungeons.  
The dining hall was empty, so Pansy assumed she'd missed breakfast and hurried along to Transfiguration. Her stomach lurched when she noticed the room’s single occupant. Sitting on a desk, parchment in hand, was Hermione Granger.  
“It seems,” Pansy noted, “like I am not late, after all.”  
“What?” Hermione mumbled, still focused on whatever she was doing.  
“Um, I can leave,” Pansy offered, when Hermione looked up. There was a hurried, “No, no, stay,” that burrowed a tiny hole straight into Pansy’s heart.  
“Are you ok?” she asked softly. Hermione looked at her sadly, and Pansy melted, just a little. “I'm alright. Harry’s not.”  
“Cedric, huh?” Pansy asked, shocked by the softness in her voice. Hermione paused, and then nodded, slightly.  
“No, it’s-” she stopped, and studied Pansy. “I shouldn't be telling you this.”  
“That's okay,” Pansy said, and there was a lapse in conversation.  
“Ron thinks you're going to pass anything I tell you on to Voldemort.”  
“I wouldn't.”  
“That's what I said,” Hermione laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound Pansy had heard for a long while.  
“Voldemort has a lot of-” Pansy floundered for a word- “a lot of, uh, beliefs that I don't agree with.”  
“The muggles thing?”  
“No, actually. Things like arranged marriage. Girls my age can end up married to men three times their age.”  
“Oh,” Hermione whispered. “That’s awful.”  
“Yeah,” Pansy said, and after a while, “I s’pose I got lucky.”  
“You don't have one?”  
Pansy pressed her lips together, and hoped Hermione took that to mean _no_.  
“Also,” Pansy said, “he’s got that whole,” she waved her arm, “purebloods only thing going on, so if he wins I'd probably end up marrying, like, my cousin.”  
Hermione nodded. “Sometimes, I really wish I was just a muggle.”  
“But then,” Pansy frowned, “you would have never met the fabulous enigma that is me.”  
There was that laugh again, and Pansy relished the fact that _she_ had provoked it.  
“No. I wouldn't have.” The smile vanished suddenly, and Pansy made a confused face. “I- I'm sorry,” Hermione squeaked, and bolted from the room, Pansy left staring after her.

Pansy came back to the classroom the next morning, but Hermione wasn't there. Instead, she sat and did some work- Draco would be proud- until McGonagall arrived and gave Pansy a questioning look. Hermione came in, arm in arm with a bloodshot eyes Potter, and something in Pansy’s jaw worked. She turned to Theo when Hermione approached and said, “Pretend I just said something funny.”  
Theo shot her a look, but laughed convincingly. Hermione hesitated.  
“Want something, Granger?” Pansy asked, not all that pleasantly.  
“No.”  
Pansy waited for her to turn away, and then laid her head in her arms. Her friends were whispering around her, but Pansy paid them no attention.  
_“You're going to pass anything on to Voldemort.”_  
No. Pansy was not, and she was going to prove it. 

She set her plan into motion at dinnertime, wordlessly walking to the Ravenclaw table instead of the Slytherin. Several blue-clad students tensed at her arrival, but one remained unfazed. She could feel all of the hall’s eyes on her as she tapped her target on the shoulder and said, as politely as she could manage, “Can I talk to you?”  
Luna Lovegood nodded, and got up. Pansy led her out of the hall silently, feeling the whispers start up as she pushed open the enormous polished doors. 

“What the hell does Parkinson want with Loony?” Ron asked, somewhat rudely.  
“I'm undecided,” Harry said.  
Hermione thought about the morning before, and the quiet politeness of Pansy’s voice, the easy jokes and relaxed admittance of her hatred of Voldemort. Then she though about this morning, and the rude assertion of betterness Pansy had displayed. They seemed completely different in her head, two different Pansies, the same but complete opposites at once. Thinking about Pansy Parkinson made Hermione’s head hurt. She resolved to stop, and focused on tying up her hair. Her tumultuous curls made this a challenge, and she praised herself for the successful distraction.  
“Hermione?”  
“Huh?” Hermione asked, foggily, looking to Ron. “I think Nott wants to talk to you. Dickhead.”  
“Ron!”  
Nott was, indeed, approaching the Gryffindor table, looking extremely uncomfortable. There was a loud “Oooh!” when he sat down next to Harry, and he stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular.  
“Hey, Granger?” he asked, and Hermione nodded. “D’you know why Pansy’s being so weird? First she's being all funny around you, and now she's gone with Lovegood to God Knows Where.”  
A sudden thought snaked its way into Hermione’s mind, of Pansy and Luna in a broom cupboard, pressed together, staring into each other's eyes. She shook away the thought; but it was still there, somewhere. She tried to ignore how uncomfortable it made her feel. _Luna’s your friend. That's why_. It comforted her, but not much.  
“Frankly,” Hermione replied, “I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contact me on [tumblr!](http://autvmncourt.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

Luna agreed to help Pansy, as Pansy knew she would. Luna was a good sort- not as much of a dick as the rest of the school, and Pansy often found herself surprised at how much respect she actually had for her. To be able to put up with all the shit somebody as ‘mad’ as she was given daily took some spunk. Luna was full of spunk, though. She was full of a lot of things, in fact, like confusing ideas that seemed to make sense, and a surprising amount of tolerance for someone who had to deal with so many asswipes.  
Luna even had an idea of a place and some people who might be interested, so Pansy let her wander off absentmindedly, and returned to the Great Hall, where a lot of people were staring at her.  
“Did you kill Lovegood?” Theo asked when she sat down, and she rolled her eyes as he chewed loudly.  
“You wish,” she said, and then, irritably, “Shut up.”  
Theo grinned and kept on at what he was doing, and, concluding all efforts to make him stop would be futile, Pansy turned to Blaise. “You alright?” she questioned him, and he nodded dejectedly. “He’s not,” Theo offered, and Pansy set her mouth into a thin line. She followed Blaise’s gaze to where Draco was striding into the room rather forcefully, and then looked again at Blaise’s slightly wistful gaze.  
“Him?” Theo asked. “Really?”  
Pansy shot him a look, and turned back to Blaise. “That must be really fucking hard, mate. I’m sorry,” she said, solemnly, and then in an attempt to lighten up the mood said, “but imagine how hard it is for Theo here, Potter hates him.”  
“Hates me,” Theo agreed. “Wait, what?”  
Blaise snorted, and Pansy smiled, before noticing who was trailing Draco, and saying, “Well, there’s Gregory. That’s my cue to run.”  
“You’ve got to talk about it eventually,” Blaise said, quietly, but Pansy ignored him and made a beeline for the exit. She didn’t stop until she was outside Myrtle’s bathroom. She pushed open the slightly wet door, and found the room empty, and Pansy breathed a sigh of relief. The usually blocked sinks seemed to be working perfectly, to Pansy’s surprise, so she splashed her face a few times and decided to be on time for class. She had Arithmancy, a class she had taken up because one of the older students had told her about Trelawney’s level of insane pretence of divinity. The professor of arithmancy was a no-nonsense sort of guy, which made slacking hard, but apparently all Trelawney did was predict Potter’s death, which might have been funny at first, but after two years seemed to be wearing down the other Slytherins. If only she could predict Theo’s death, things might get interesting.  
She had just walked out of the bathroom when somebody sidled up to her. “Goyle,” Pansy said, “I’m really busy, I can’t talk right now.”  
“Oh,” said the person beside her, “but can you talk to me?” It was Hermione, smiling slightly.  
“Depends on what you want to talk about,” Pansy replied.  
Hermione said, softly, “We need to get some work done on that Astronomy project-” she crossed her arms, still smiling. “I’m not doing it all.” Pansy nodded, and they continued to the classroom in silence, until Hermione said, “Why were you talking to Luna?”  
Pansy smiled, the kind of smile that said _I have a secret_ and brought her mouth to Hermione’s ear. “Perhaps you’ll find out.”  
Hermione watched her, eyes large, as Pansy continued on to Arithmancy. Pansy had a smile larger than the moon and her expression was one of exhilaration. She was the first to arrive at Arithmancy, and Hermione arrived a few moments later, panting, and asked, “Why did you have to run ahead?”  
Pansy grinned and tapped the side of her nose, before sitting down in her usual place in the far corner. Surprisingly, it only took a second for Hermione to consider, and then sit down next to her. They didn’t speak for a while, and Hermione took out a quill from a band and began to twirl it through long, slender fingers. Pansy was struck by how soft her hands looked, and some part of her ached to fold those beautiful hands into her own. She longed to stroke Hermione’s hair, comb out all the knots with tireless fingers. She wanted to lie by a telescope and watch the stars tirelessly, joyously, curled up against a beautiful girl with beautiful hands clasped in her own.  
“You alright?” Hermione asked, and Pansy attempted to banish these thoughts. “No,” she whispered, and Hermione closed her eyes. “Me neither,” she said, and Pansy’s heart thudded so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest. Neither moved, they just stared at each other, and Hermione's eyes were filled with a warmth Pansy had never seen before, and her usually distant gaze was so close, so wonderfully close. Feeling as though her stomach might fly out of her throat, Pansy leaned forward to close the gap. Her head was exploding as she saw Hermione move too, closer and closer and warmer and softer and so, so beautiful-  
“Oh, my God!”  
It was Potter, bright red with embarrassment and rubbing his eyes as though whatever he had just seen had been imagined.  
“Um, Harry, hi!” Hermione was bright red, too, the colour of a rose as she blustered for an explanation. “I- I can explain-”  
“I can leave?” he offered, and Pansy slid down into her chair and closed her eyes. _Did that just happen?_  
“What do you want, Harry?”  
_I just almost kissed somebody!_  
“Um, I came for some parchment, but-”  
_I just almost kissed Hermione Granger!_  
“Here.” Hermione got up, and Pansy shuddered as a hand brushed against her back. She scrambled to dig a piece of parchment out of her bag, and found only an unfinished Potions essay. She tore the bottom off and began to write, and then tucked the note into Hermione's textbook.  
When Hermione sat back down, Pansy was intently studying her own textbook, and didn't reply to any questions she was asked. She remained closed off for the rest of the day, ignoring all attempts to talk to her. When Gregory sat down next to her in the Common Room after class, she made no move to leave. She stayed where she was, perched on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. He waited a moment, to she if she moved, and then got out some work.  
“Everything ok?” he asked, while retrieving some ink. Pansy shook her head, and then moved so her legs were curled around her body as she leaned on the armrest of the couch. The fire crackled to her side, and Gregory smiled. “I love that sound,” he remarked. “It makes me feel all … warm.”  
“That’s the point of a fire,” she pointed out, and Gregory rolled his eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”  
“And proud of it,” Pansy affirmed, and looked back to the fireplace.  
“Say,” Goyle ventured, “d’you s’pose you could help me with this?” he gestured to his Astronomy work. Pansy said, “Alright,” and reached out a hand for it. “Okay, so, Jupiter is a proper noun, it needs a capital j.”  
“But it looks nicer without,” Goyle said, jokingly.  
“Yes,” agreed Pansy, “but do you want it to look nice, or do you want it to get good marks?”  
“Well…”  
“Shut up and do what I tell you.”  
“Yes, mum,” Goyle said, sarcasm laced through his words. Pansy smiled. “How’s Vincent? Haven’t talked to him in a while.”  
“Oh, he’s fine. Why?”  
“Well he’s always with you, and …” Pansy trailed off and rubbed the back of her neck. Goyle nodded solemnly, and said, “Actually, that’s part of the reason I wanted to talk to you.”  
“What?”  
“I, um, I,” Goyle paused. “I kissed him.”  
Pansy smiled. “Why did you need to talk to me about it?”  
He looked at her for a second, before saying, evenly, “Because you’re my friend.”  
“Friend?” Pansy asked, surprised. His grin was friendly when he affirmed, “Friend.”


	4. Chapter 4

Frankly, Hermione was about done with mysteries. Being friends with Harry, she'd definitely had her fair share of them, but there was something different about this one. This was the kind of mystery that one wants to solve not for fame, or money, or the safety of others, but for oneself.   
And the mystery was this: Pansy Parkinson.  
Hermione was the sort of person who found an odd sort of comfort in straightforward answers, organised bookshelves and colour-coded notes. But there was something deeply satisfying about unraveling pieces of Pansy, discovering little stars in a majestic constellation. Here was a tapestry of thoughts and feeling where Hermione had previously just thought there was a blank slate of callousness. Perhaps that was intentional, but Hermione was beginning to understand that nobody can just be a blank canvas. Things, awful and wonderful, are always being thrown at you, and once there is something on your canvas there is no going back. You can't unmake a mark. And Pansy had left a big mark that day in the classroom, and Hermione had no intention of painting over it.  
“Perhaps,” she said, even though nobody was listening, “I shouldn't be wondering about the constellation of her, but rather the constellation of _us_.”

Pansy was not in lessons that day. No information was given from the Slytherins, but word from Ginny came that Luna was also missing, and Hermione decided to put two and two together and say that each was with the other. Something about that made Hermione’s heart squeeze- only a bit, but enough to notice it- but she pushed it down and ignored it. Add to that Ron’s incessant questioning- “Parkinson? Really?” and Hermione’s head was spinning this way and that, and she couldn’t help but show it. When McGonagall called her aside to question her on the quality of her work, Hermione fell to pieces.  
“I- I’m sorry- I- just, I’m so … I don’t feel well,” she said, trying to reel back the tears as they spilled out of her eyes.   
“Oh!” exclaimed McGonagall, seemingly flustered, “Do you need to go to the medical centre?”  
“N-no. Can I just go lie down?”  
“Of course, Miss Granger.”  
“Thanks, Professor.”  
Arriving in the common room, Hermione decided to do what she did best- distract herself by doing work whilst simultaneously knitting some house elf hats. Harry and Ron had told her to stop with the hats, but there was something about finishing one and then hiding it that gave her a fervent sort of glee that washed over her and filled her with a sense of satisfaction, and the feeling when they were gone the next morning was twice that. She was currently experimenting with patterns, and had decided to try stripes for the next one, and had charmed one of the maroon balls of wool into an odd sort of army green. It had produced a hat- if you could call it that, it was more a mess of unflattering colours in a disarray of inequal lines- that Hermione thought was very much Dobby’s style. She thought that it would make a good Christmas present for him, at least. Setting it aside, she got to work on another.

By the time Ron came through the portrait hole, Hermione was halfway through both her second hat and her Ancient Runes essay. Ron’s face was an interesting shade of puce, and if this had been a muggle cartoon he would’ve had steam pouring out of his ears. He stormed up to her, face like thunder, and quite physically shook his fist at her.  
“Parkinson? Really?”  
A number of heads turned to look, and Hermione closed her eyes. “Not right now, Ron.”  
“No. I want to know why you hooked up with Parkinson.” Ron’s statement was followed by a number of murmurs as the rest of the house acknowledged what had just angrily rolled out of his mouth.  
“Ron, calm down,” Hermione said. “And I did not hook up with Pansy!”  
“Oh, on first-name basis are we, now?”  
“Honestly, Ronald. I’m on first name basis with you, and I most certainly haven’t hooked up with you!” Hermione exclaimed, distraught.  
Ron made a face. “For Merlin’s sake, all she’s going to do is betray you to You-Know-Who when the time comes!”  
“Really, Ronald?”  
“Why are you such a bitch?” Ron asked, and Hermione glared lasers at him.   
“Why are you such a- a _jerk_?”  
“Fuck off.” There was nothing but malice in his tone, and Hermione could feel something chipping away at her heart.   
“Fine!” she shouted; even though she didn’t mean it.  
“Alright then!”   
With those two words, everything Hermione had built for herself fell to bits. The confused whispering swirled around her, a whirlwind of gossip and desperation, and she took one look at Lee Jordan, winking at her like nobody’s business, and ran for it.

Pansy was sitting at her desk already when Hermione came in the next morning, eyeslined with red and hiccupping softly, and every inch of Pansy wanted to run to her, but Potter was already there. Besides, Pansy knew that any kindness towards Hermione- a mudblood, of all things- would result in immediate exclusion from anything by the Slytherins. But yet, perhaps it would earn her a little respect from the other houses, the people that would go on to become musicians and teachers and aurors, not sultry wives sitting at home, or death eaters constantly at risk of Azkaban. And that was currently the path Pansy was on, to becoming a lonely woman sitting alone with nothing but a house-elf for company and possibly a few bratty sons whilst her husband was off killing muggles and painting skulls in the clouds. That was not what Pansy wanted, so, even though the annoyingly pureblood part of her brain was yelling to stay where she was, Pansy got up and stood by Hermione. Carefully, she laid a pale hand on Hermione’s darker one, and watched the room idly as Blaise smiled softly and Theo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Hermione leaned back into Pansy’s arm, and Pansy was struck again but the wonder of nature that was Hermione Granger. Soft skin, careful words and endless, endless heart. Hermione was so strong, she could get caught in the worst of blizzards and still hold her ground. There was nothing Pansy admired more about Hermione than that. Except her eyes, solemn and yet so cheerful, so alive. Those eyes were closed now, and there were bags under them, grooves in her otherwise perfect face. Hermione Granger was so beautiful, and Pansy felt more real than ever because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ron is one of my favourite characters, so he is eventually going to realise how much of a dick he's being, dw. my tumblr has changed: it is now [here](http://exceisiors.tumblr.com), so feel free to come yell at me about anything from there!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to all the lovely people who left comments on the previous chapters!! it really means a lot xx  
> things are going to get exciting in this next chapter: some kissing and also I am beginning to get going with the main plot?? i've been trying to plan it out but all i've got is lots of far-fetched evil plans involving the imperius curse but idk bc this was originally just a nice pansmione love story but nvm!!

Ron was having a bad night; Harry could tell. Harry was worried; something bad was going on with Ron and Hermione, and Harry wasn’t sure what to do. There was nothing he _could_ do, besides worry, and worry, and worry. It was an endless cycle: get up, worry, eat, worry, on, and on, and on. Honestly, Harry wasn’t sure if he was worrying for Ron, or for Hermione, or for himself. Maybe some small part of him worried for everyone, even prats like Zacharias Smith and gits like Michael Corner and even- god forbid- Theodore Nott. It was a natural instinct to Harry, to worry, and he thought it was the worst part of being him- besides the whole _dead parents_ thing, but that was on a whole other level that Harry didn’t count, at least not properly. He liked to keep that part of him on a shelf, out of reach, away.  
The thing was, Harry was conflicted. He was conflicted about how to approach Ron after the fiasco yesterday, and he was conflicted about whether to ask Luna about Pansy Parkinson. He was conflicted about whether or not to tell Hermione about Umbridge’s bullshit detentions, or whether to talk to Sirius. But most of all, he was conflicted about Theodore Nott.  
Four months, it’d been, four hopeless months of staring and watching and meeting in an empty classroom to go over homework. During the day, they were Harry Potter and Theodore Nott, sworn enemies, but at night they couldn’t have been closer if you tried. It had started as nothing more than a simple seating plan in Charms, and then they were paired up in Flying and before anyone could say anything they were _friends_. If Harry had been told that at the end of last term, he would have said that was nonsense. But then, things like that did happen, he supposed.  
It wasn’t long before it had gone even further, and Harry was so full of affection for this strange boy that he thought he might explode.  
And then, and then _it_ happened. And Theo was no longer just Theo, a boy with a strange way of styling his hair, he was _Theo_ , a boy full of stars and worries and fears who, underneath all the toughness, just needed a home. Maybe Harry had given him that home, because Harry had definitely found a home in Theo. He was warmth, and wonder, and comfort, rolled up into one beautiful person with moonlit eyes and a smile that could send Harry reeling.  
Harry smiled gently as he hurried to the library; Theo would already be there. Filch was patrolling, but he was up on fifth by the Charms classroom, Umbridge was on seventh, probably shouting at Peeves, and Snape was sulking in his study. Mind you, Harry had been avoiding Snape since the debacle in Potions- he had been doodling the words _love is dumb. life is dumb._ into his books and had been somewhat on the alarmed side when Snape confessed he concurred with Harry’s opinions.  
Theo was waiting by the Magical Ailments and Diseases section of the library, a small shelf in the corner of the room which was only ever visited by aspiring Healers taking their NEWTs or, on occasion, Madam Pomfrey. A few candles were littering the third shelf, and Theo had his back to Harry as he attempted to light these without setting the entire castle on fire. Having (just barely) succeeded, he turned back around, and raised a hand by way of a greeting.  
“Hey,” Harry whispered. “What’re you doing?”  
He gestured to the few books lying on the nearest desk, and Theo sighed. “Binns- that bloody wanker- has set two rolls- _two! _\- of parchment for tomorrow. How in Merlin’s name are we supposed to finish that in a day?”__  
Harry grinned, and said, “What’s it on?”  
“Oh, uh, _Should Centaurs have been granted equal rights to wizards?_ Makes me feel like a right asshole to have to say no, but if Father sees it he’ll have a hissy fit if I don’t.”  
“Well,” Harry said, “nobody’s gonna see it.”  
“Except Binns.”  
“Yeah, well, Binns doesn’t care.”  
“True.”  
Harry looked at Theo, who had started humming the National Anthem as he began to write his essay. Rolling his eyes slightly, Harry looked at the Quidditch notes Angelina had given him- facts about Penalties and instructions on the most effective way to carry out a Wronski Feint littered the page in her jagged handwriting- and sighed. He loved Quidditch, sure, but right now, Harry’s mind was on other things, like why Ron was acting so weirdly, and why every time Millicent Bulstrode passed him in the corridor he felt an uncomfortable slithering feeling in his stomach, like his body was trying to warn him about something. He couldn’t think what, though. It took him a while to realise that a set of brilliant, gray eyes were trained on him.  
“Interesting, huh?” Theo asked, and Harry nodded. They sat in silence for a bit longer, and Harry was struck by the way the shadows fell on Theo’s face, casting half of him into shadow and making him look like some kind of ethereal being; a faerie, perhaps, from the books he used to read when he had to go with Mrs Figg to the library to pick up a book on cat feed, or maybe a mermaid with kelp flowing all around. The candles flickered slightly, and the light on Theo’s face flickered too, and the look in his eyes reminded Harry of warm baths and roses and everything he wanted his life to be one day.  
Maybe Theo would be a part of it, too.  
Harry hoped so.  
His brain’s ramblings were cut off by Theo’s voice, a soft knife that brought strange, new colours into the room.  
“Can I- can I kiss you?” he asked, and Harry’s heart exploded.  
“I think,” he said, closing his eyes, “you may. But-” he was cut short by the feeling of lips against lips, noses touching as his companion leaned down to engulf him. Harry was light-headed and dizzy, thoughts derailing off track as he pressed himself into the body opposite him. Arms came around him softly as he reached his hand out for a pair of broad shoulders, and he dug into Theo’s shoulder blades with shaking fingers.  
“You aren’t perfect,” Theo said, and Harry smiled, “but you’re pretty damn close.”  
And then, Harry forgot about Ron, and Hermione and Pansy, and let Theo become his world.  
By the time they pulled apart, Harry was breathless and grinning like a madman.  
“You should probably get on with that essay for Binns,” he murmured.  
“Fuck Binns,” Theo said, and pulled Harry down again.

___It had taken a long time to get things ready; a few bargains with some house elves- there was one in particular named Plinky that Pansy honestly wanted to adopt, she was so innocent- and an explanation to McGonagall as to what the club aspired to do. Luna was inviting people, and Pansy had dragged Theo along, and, after some convincing, Greg._  
Luna had set out some food on the Teacher’s desk, along with a few jugs of water and some bunting made from transfigured house scarves scavenged from the lost property bin. All the other desks had been pushed back and replaced with pillows and blankets, and Pansy had taken off her shoes (a battered pair of Doc Martens, purchased in a bout of rebellion on a trip to London), stowing them under the window.  
A few people trickled in as the clock hit five; most people were free then, at least in fifth year (and fourth, Luna promised). Colin Creevey hurried in, camera in hand, followed by Hannah Abbot, whose bag was worryingly full, and then in cavorted Dean Thomas. Pansy was about to glare, but stopped herself, remembering the point of what she was doing. A Ravenclaw by the name of Marietta Edgecombe subsequently hustled in, then followed by Justin Flinch-Fletchley, who made a beeline for Hannah and practically sat on top of her, he was so close. Finally, Theodore Nott strolled in, accompanied but a thunderous-looking Gregory Goyle.  
Once everyone had settled down, Pansy coughed.  
“Hey.”  
There were a few murmurs of acknowledgement; a bright “Hello!” from Colin, and Pansy continued.  
“Um, so I decided to start this thing because, um, people are dickheads.”  
There was a smattering of laughter; Pansy took it as a sign to continue. “All us Slytherins are dickheads to you, and you are dickheads to us. Purebloods are dicks to muggle-borns, and practically everyone is awful to squibs. And,” she grinned, “things like being gay. What the fuck is so wrong with being gay, or bi, or trans? Nothing. Zilch. Nada-” just as Pansy was getting into the rhythm of what she was saying, the door swung open, and in slid Ginny Weasley, freckles dancing on her face. She hurried over to Luna, and frowned at Pansy, who nodded in greeting, and was about to continue when in waltzed Hermione Granger. She was dressed in a too-big muggle jacket, and a pair of faded jeans and old sneakers. Unlike Ginny, who had dressed up her leather jacket to appear sleek and new, Hermione seemed to have made no effort, besides the daisy pin that was half-hidden by the waves of curls.  
“Um, hey, guys,” Pansy said, and then broke into a smile. “So, uh, yeah. This is basically just a chit-chat club for making a difference.”  
“For appreciation,” Luna put in.  
“Yeah,” Pansy agreed, and noticed the way the lamplight fell on Hermione's nose. “Appreciation.” 

___“How about,” Colin suggested, “we ambush everybody at breakfast? Tell ‘em about it?”_  
Pansy faltered. “That’s actually not that bad of an idea.”  
They were discussing how best to make the little organisation known around the school, and also how to make sure Umbridge could find no excuse to discontinue it; what with her having recently been instated as High Inquisitor and all.  
“Forget about all of that,” Dean interrupted, “for a moment, at least. This, uh, club needs a name.”  
“And we need to be friends,” Hermione said, and Pansy felt the corners on her mouth twitch up slightly.  
“How about the League of Love?” Luna suggested.  
“I am _not_ being part of a secret club called the League of _Love_!” Theo exclaimed. There was silence for a moment, before Pansy burst out laughing.  
“Calm your tits, Notty. You got a suggestion?”  
“Yeah. Fuck off.”  
“Wow. No need to get so heated!”  
“How about,” Marietta Edgecombe’s small voice wafted across the room, “we call it UAP. United Against Prats.”  
“United Against Prats,” Theo repeated, and then nodded. “It's great.”  
“Alright,” Pansy said. “Anyone disagree?”  
There were a few shaken heads, and Ginny said, “I think it's great.”  
“There we are,” Hermione said. “Welcome to UAP.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contact me on [tumblr](autvmncourt.tumblr.com)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao yes, i actually updated!   
> just a warning, i've corrected some of the chapters and added some changes to the story previously, so you might want to read back, unless you started reading after january 4th.  
> again, thanks so much for the lovely comments, and i'm so so sorry i took so long with this update. hopefully i'll get the next one out soon.

The talk of the school the next day was not, in fact, the mysterious club started by a Slytherin that had somehow managed to persuade several Gryffindors to join- no doubt it would be, had that information not stuck solely within the brains of those who had taken part (and Draco, who had opted out of going on the thin excuse of his father’s reaction, and Blaise, who said he would’ve loved to, but the Alchemy Club was taking up all of his time). The big thing that day was instead the fact that Theodore Nott and Harry Potter seemed to suddenly be on speaking terms. They even came into the Great Hall together, even though they slept on opposite sides of the school. When they came in, Theo raised his hand for a fist-bump, and Harry obliged, saying something in a low voice that made Theo laugh, loudly, before they both came to sit on the Slytherin table. From across the room, Ron made a shocked face, and, when Harry actually sat down opposite Draco, Pansy could see the betrayal across his face.  
“Um, hi?” she said, buttering her toast.  
“Hello,” Harry greeted.   
“Where were you, last night?” Blaise asked, pointing a fork at Theo’s dishevelled hair. Theo paled.  
“I, uh, I fell asleep in the library, while I was studying.” He said it like a question: Blaise raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Harry stayed silent, mostly, besides a few quiet conversations with Theo.   
Finally, he got up and said, “Well, I’ve got to go, but,” he scratched his head slightly, “I’d like to get to know you all, properly.”  
“See you later,” Theo said.  
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and left, Ron pushing himself up to meet him. He began to speak angrily to Harry, but when Harry replied, he looked taken aback, and almost ashamed.

“Kay. Welcome back to UAP! We have two thingies on the agenda: firstly, we’re gonna chitchat about prats and stuff, and then we’re going to discuss our aims, or whatever,” she said, authoratively. There were a few murmurs, but everyone nodded.  
“How about,” Hermione said, “we go through our names and why we're here?”  
There was a flurry of shrugs throughout the room.   
“Sure,” Pansy said. She wondered if she was ever going to be able to refuse Hermione.  
“Right …” Hermione smiled softly as she said, “Well, Colin?”  
“Um, hi!” Colin’s voice was unsure as he said, “My sister’s a squib … She was so excited to go to Hogwarts—but she can't go, and it's the worst.”  
Pansy’s face softened slightly, and she said, “That must suck.”  
Colin nodded. “It does. She has to go to muggle school, and she hates it. Every time I come home I just feel like I’ve,” he gestured with his hands, as if searching for the right word, “betrayed her.”  
Dean leaned over to squeeze Colin’s shoulder, and Colin relaxed the tension in his shoulders, slightly.  
“Um,” said Marietta, “I’ll go next. It's my mum: she gets so cross with me for not being horrible to everyone else. I mean, not horrible, but, like, not wanting to do what Umbridge says, or believing Harry. Umbridge is a family friend.” She wrinkled her nose. “I hate her. Umbridge, I mean.”  
“Me too,” affirmed Dean. “Right, well, I’m here ‘cause I’m, uh, I'm not straight.” He held his breath, as though waiting for a negative reaction. When nothing happened, he loosed it, and smiled. “Blimey! It's nice to tell someone and not … you know.”  
“S’all good—I am too,” Luna said, managing to sound distant and completely involved at the same time. “I think it's a good thing: to be different. I just wish … I wish people weren't so nasty about it …” she trailed off, and Pansy nodded.  
“S’pose it's my turn, right?” she asked. “Okay, well, there are a lot of reasons. One: I’m a Slytherin, and everyone hates us. Two: I’m not a big believer in the whole ‘I am the Dark Lord! Worship me!’ thing. C:—oh wait, was I doing numbers? Never mind—Fundamentally, I don't believe people are bad. I just think that their parents—carers or whatever—shove a whole load of crap down their throats and expect us to be okay with it. And we go along with it, and at some point the crap takes over our brains; the little part reserved just for bigotedness. And then here we are! Stuck in a whole load of dickheadedness and prejudice!  
“It doesn't even necessarily have to be our parents. It’s a bit of everybody we meet: grandparents, friends, hell! Even our worst enemies. It's little by little—until, one day, you wake up, and bang! You're a bigot with stupid views and stupid morals, making wrong decisions.  
“That's why I started this group. That’s why you're all here: because I want to banish the crap from all these students’ brains. It doesn't matter what house they’re in, or who their parents are or whatever! We're all just misguided and judgemental and it has to _stop!_ ” Pansy, realising she'd gotten herself very worked up, heaved a breath. “It has to stop,” she repeated, quieter this time.  
“It has to stop,” echoed somebody—Hermione. Pansy’s eyes met hers, and she stared, and stared into those beautiful eyes. Hermione's eyes blazed with passion, and belief, and Pansy hoped hers reflected it. _She’s beautiful_ , Pansy thought.   
She’s beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am on [tumblr](http://exceisiors.tumblr.com)! come rant at me about your favourite ships or whatever!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah !! ik i updated rly recently what is happening lmao but this chapter is kinda short so?? i just wanted to get something out before i go on semi-hiatus until february :((

Ron came up to her later. 

“Listen, ‘Mione,” he said. “I… I know I can be quick to judge, but,” here, he took a deep breath, and then spewed some words out in a way that Hermione couldn’t understand any of it, “ _ I _ Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Pansy flew down the corridors with fervour, reaching the fat lady just as Hermione came barelling out from behind it, closely followed by a red-faced Ron.At breakfast time, a few days later, Hermione emerged from the dorms to find Ron sitting dejectedly at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I tried to come find you…” he said. “But there's some funky magic going on with those stairs.”

She laughed, tentatively. “Still haven't read Hogwarts: a History, then.”

“No…” Ron agreed. “But I have been reading. Since we've been… y’know, and Harry's off Merlin knows where, I haven't had much to do, so…”

Hermione hummed. “I think he's dating someone.”

“You do? Me too,” Ron said. Then he paused, and seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. “Listen, ‘Mione, I’m sorry.”

“‘S’okay,” she began, generously. 

“No,” he said, “it’s not. I was stupid, and I misjudged Pansy, and I was altogether a downright wanker.”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed. “You were a bit of a dick.”

“More than a bit of one. Anyway, the point is, I’m sorry.”

She looked, for a second, like she might start lecturing him on misjudging people. Instead, she laughed, and hugged him.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

It was at precisely this point when Harry came blasting in through the portrait-hole, closely followed by Theo.

“What..?” Hermione began. Theo raised an eyebrow at the pair. 

“Shagging, are we?” 

Ron wrinkled his nose. “Fuck no.”

“Wow, okay, rude,” Hermione said, jokingly. Ron gave her a light shove. Harry looked bewildered; but at least happy that she and Ron were talking again.

Then Hermione noticed his hands. One of them wasn't in sight, until she noticed it entwined with Theo’s. She smiled, knowingly. 

“It's about time,” she said. 

Ron said, “I’m confused.”

Theo laughed, and Harry lifted their hands up.

“Oh, wow, Harry, congratulations,” Ron said, more than a little flustered. 

Hermione jumped right in with, “God, Theo, d’you know how much pining I had to labour through?”

“I know!” Ron added, seemingly recovered. “And half the time he didn't even realise he was pining!”

“I never thought he would get his shit together enough to ask you out!”

Harry shifted. “I haven't.”

Hermione gave him a look. “Harry James Potter, are you kidding me? Get your sorry ass down to Hogsmeade immediately. But don't be too long, you have to be at the Hog’s Head at one!”

Theo laughed. “She's like a mum.”

“When he's at school,” Hermione said, “I  _ am _ his mum. Mrs Weasley takes the post when he's out of school, so I can have a break, though—oh, Merlin, Theo, we’re going to be late!”

She rushed off, Theo following behind her. 

“Where are they  _ going _ ?” Ron began, but Dean was thumping down the stairs behind them.

“Was that Hermione?” he asked. The pair nodded. “Great. I've got time.”

And he hopped off, trying to tie his shoelace while running across a room with a toothbrush in his mouth. 

“What the hell?” Harry muttered.

“I don't know, but it seems like we've got a hell of a lot of stuff to catch up on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://exceisiors.tumblr.com)! come yell @ me about your fave hp rarepairs or headcanons!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik i've been away for a while but work is really piling up rn :(((( anyway here's a happy chapter to try and pull me out of my no-creativity spiral.  
> much love! xx

Dean was the last one there: he tumbled in with his shoelaces untied and brandishing his toothbrush like a wand.  
Pansy raised her head from where she was sitting with Hermione to gaze at him.  
“You’re late,” she said, not forcefully.  
“Sorry… I just had a conversation with Seamus. He said, well, he said he was worried he might be gay.”  
“Worried?”  
“Yeah,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck.  
Pansy thought for a moment. “Should we invite him to the next meeting? Yeah, let’s.”  
Theo shrugged, and said, “In other news, I’m going on a date today.”  
“Yeah, he is. Theo, you date catcher, you,” Hermione said grinning. Pansy looked about as perplexed as she felt, and it looked like Ginny concurred.  
“What?”  
“Guys,” interrupted Colin, “I had an idea. What if we do, like, a pep rally, or whatever. We’ll get Dumbledore’s permission, and do a thing out in the grounds.”  
Pansy thought about it. Ginny punched Colin lightly on the arm.  
“That's not too bad an idea,” she said. Colin blushed, and smiled broadly. Luna leant her head onto Ginny’s shoulder.  
“Shall we?” Pansy asked. “You know what, let’s.”  
“I'll organise flyers!” Justin exclaimed. “Marietta, Hannah, you’ll help me, right?”  
“Sure,” Marietta agreed, and Hannah nodded along, “and I’ll ask Michael for help with snacks. He's really good at household spells.”  
“Me and Greg’ll do decorations,” Luna offered. “Those drawings are really good, Greg,” she said, pointing at his sketchbook. He blushed slightly. “P’raps we can design some signs? And slogans—Colin, you’re great at those.”  
Colin beamed even wider; and began muttering possible slogans under his breath.  
“I’ll spread the word,” Ginny said. “Dean, maybe you could help?”  
“Definitely. What about music? Make it big?” Dean offered.  
“And Theo, too, can you spread the word with the Slytherins?”  
“‘Course,” Theo said, surprisingly happy. “What is a pep rally, anyways?”  
“The only thing I know about pep rallies is that they happen in movies, and involve showing off the sports teams? Something like that, anyways,” Pansy said, nonchalantly.  
“I can talk to Angelina. Maybe she can ask Zacharias to do something with her? We can always ask Dumbledore to get the teams to do something,” Ginny offered.  
“Nice,” Hermione said. “Guess that leaves you and me, Pans, on what you’ll actually say.”  
“Me?”  
“Yeah. Like a speech. You're the leader of this thing, after all.”  
The group murmured assent, and Pansy blushed.  
“Y’know what? Let’s both do it. Gryffindor Slytherin unity, and all that,” Pansy said, trying to hide how pleased she was. Her idea was working; turning into something real. She felt impossibly proud. This was happening; she was doing something. She grinned, widely.  
“Alright then,” she said, “I guess that's it. Have a fun time in Hogsmeade, everybody!”  
They all cleared out, pausing here and then to shout goodbyes before heading in different directions. Only Hermione stayed, running her thumb across some books lying mismatched on a bookcase.  
“So…,” she said, “when d’you wanna do that speech?”  
“I mean,” Pansy offered, tentative, “I don't have any plans for today?”  
“I do, but… later. We could head of to the Three Broomsticks, then?”  
“Sure,” Pansy said. “I'll meet you in the entrance hall, I have to grab my jacket.”  
Hermione smiled again, that glorious thing. “Alright. See you then.”

  
Pansy burst into the dorm later with such furiousness that Theo though she might’ve had a heart attack.  
“Help me,” he said, when she'd calmed down. “I have a date with Harry.”  
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she grinned. “Fuck yeah! I have one with Hermione, too, and I’m stuck.”  
“A date?” he asked. “With Hermione?”  
She faltered a little. “Well, not really, but we’re going to the Three Broomsticks to write my speech, or whatever, and I told her I was coming back to get my coat, so…”  
He nodded.  
“It's just, I really, really like her. She’s so wonderful. It takes my breath away every time I see her. She’s like a fallen star, y’know.”  
Theo nodded. “I understand. Harry’s...like that. I look forward to seeing him, so much. He makes me feel like I’m walking on water.”  
She punched his shoulder, lightly. “Enough sappy talk. Can’t have Draco walking in on us.”  
A voice coughed, from the other side of the room. “Have me walking in on what? You lot being saps. Too late. I've been your friend for 5 years. You're a lot sappier than you think.”  
Pansy laughed, and looped her arms with Theo. “At least we have friends—and boyfriends—to do things with. You're just going to mope here all day.”  
“I’ll have you know,” Draco said, in a shockingly good imitation of Fudge, “that Blaise and I are going to buy quills.”  
“Oh,” said Theo, laughing, “quills. How riveting!”  
“Shut up,” Draco said lightly, and joined them on their way out of the room. Blaise was waiting in the common room for Draco, and he fell into easy step next to them. Crabbe waved from them with his seat next to Goyle as they passed, a cheery thing. Pansy winked at them, and both boys blushed and bent their heads forward towards their work. She laughed, and linked her other arm with Draco, so the four of them were held together in one comfortable line.  
They arrived at the entrance hall laughing. Dean waved at them from where he was standing with Seamus, who frowned a little, although Dean waved it off. Marietta came up to say that Ginny had talked to Dumbledore, and everything was a-go, at which Pansy smiled so widely she worried her cheeks might fall off with the effort. This was what it felt like, she thought, to be sublimely happy. She could ignore the problems with Goyle, and overlook the side-eyes she was getting from more than a few onlookers. Hermione waved her over from where she was standing with Harry and Ron, and all four Slytherins traipsed over to meet them. Theo turned to Harry and began talking softly with him, a gentle murmur that reminded Pansy of the tide coming in. She smiled a little shyly at Hermione, and then waved almost genially at Ron. He waved back after a little hesitation.  
“I don't know if Hermione told you,” he said, “but I’m really sorry. I said some stupid things, and I shouldn’t’ve. Can you, maybe, consider being my friend. I’d like to be yours.”  
She took a moment to think about it. In a way, she felt like Ron’s situation was not unlike hers. He had been raised thinking that all Purebloods were terrible people, and seeing his friends become friends with them must’ve been hard. Still, he had been a bit childish about the whole thing.  
“Yeah, that’s alright. We're not too different, you and me,” she said, after a while. Ron looked positively relieved, and smiled at her.  
“Thanks. Have a good day, you guys. I’ll see you at one, ‘Mione.”  
“Right, you too,” Hermione said. “Have a fun family day!”  
Ron wrinkled his nose a little, but there was a spring in his step as he headed towards the twins and Ginny. Fred gave his arm a squeeze and ruffled his hair jokingly, and Pansy watched as Ginny laughed. Next to her, Hermione chuckled too, a small thing. Pansy turned to her.  
“Shall we?” Hermione asked.  
“Okay,” Pansy said, still smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's horrendously cheesy forgive me but i just want my kids to be happy!! they deserves so much love and affection etc. etc. 
> 
> (come rant @ me about these kiddos on [tumblr](http://exceisiors.tumblr.com)!!!)
> 
> (also if any1 wants to explain to me exactly how a pep rally works that'd be brill. if not it's ok tho bc nobody @ hogwarts knows either so i can just make shit up but like,, pls)

**Author's Note:**

> contact me on [tumblr!](http://autvmncourt.tumblr.com)


End file.
